


The Fall

by bill_nye_the_russian_spy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Boys In Love, Dreams in a sticky situation, Engagement, Fluff and Angst, Hurt GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, but it was faked, dw he alive, oblivious idiots, sapnaps a good friend, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bill_nye_the_russian_spy/pseuds/bill_nye_the_russian_spy
Summary: Dreamnotfound spy au! There’s criminally little of this so I decided to take matters into my own hands! This will have lots of angst but a happy ending! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it! :)“Clay took a step back and fell off the edge of the roof, disappearing into the clouds below, with George’s name on his lips, and an outstretched hand, forever reaching to grasp at what he could not have.George screamed.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Wilbur Soot, others
Kudos: 7





	The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my espionage AU I hope you enjoy the ride haha. This most defo would not have been done without my friends help, who I bounced ideas off for an ungodly amount of time-
> 
> And if any/all members of dnf change their mind on shipping/fan fiction this shall be promptly taken down.
> 
> Also for reference italics mean a flashback/memory/or something that happened in the past.
> 
> The plot is pretty much all sorted just gotta write this thing!

_Candles cast the area in a soft glow, shadows creeping gently up the walls, dancing in graceful swirls. George looked across the room to his best friend turned lover, Clay. He drank in the sight of him, the lighting making his green eyes glow golden to George, illuminating the constellation of freckles spread across the bridge of his nose. The stupid neon hoodie George kept trying to throw out, but would appear back in his boyfriends wardrobe the next day.  
_

_George sighed in contentment, he wouldn’t change a thing, not a single aspect of this perfect reality. He was torn out of his procrastination by a soft hum from his boyfriend, and fingers reaching to tangle with his, slotting like pieces from a puzzle._

_George looked up to be met with a soft smile from Clay, the kind he would reserve for when the two were alone together, one that made George think of blonde hair, sunsets, and a love too pure for this cruel, harsh world._

_“I don’t deserve you, your like something out of a dream..”_

_Clay huffed a quiet laugh before opening his mouth to speak._

_“If anything I don’t-“_

“Deserve you- That’s what you said to me!” George screamed it at the other man. 

Rain poured in buckets, soaking George to the bone. Thunder rumbled above, and lighting cracked. The sky was illuminated by a hauntingly beautiful strike of lighting, betraying the heartbroken expression on George’s face.

Clay flinched back from George, fear etched onto his features. His once neon hoodie had been dulled with rainwater. His worn trainers etched backwards, towards the edge of the roof. George kept pursuing him, shouting hurt filled words he would probably come to regret, but that didn’t matter now, all that mattered was getting closure.

“Why!?” George sobbed into the rain, he took a step forwards. “I just want to know why.” Another step forwards. Clay took a step back and fell off the edge of the roof, disappearing into the clouds below, with George’s name on his lips, and an outstretched hand, forever reaching to grasp at what he could not have.

George screamed.

Nick, or more commonly known as sapnap, cringed as soon as he entered the apartment. The bitter smell of alcohol assaulted his nose, and tears welled up in the brunettes eyes, but not from the smell. The apartment was trashed. Shards of glass were strewn about the floor, a broken box of candles was spilling into the corridor. The normally light and jovial mood was gone, as if it was never there. The taste of depression and desperation was almost tangible in the air.  
  
Sapnap took a step forward, glass crunching underfoot.

There was no reaction to his presence.

Sapnap seemed to gravitate towards a door at the end of the hallway, his feet carrying him there, albeit silently as not to startle the singular occupant. His fingers grazed the door knob and he gently pushed the door open and stuck his head in the room.

“George are you awake?” Were the words whispered, breaking the delicate silence. The only response Sapnap got was a pair of red rimmed chocolate eyes moving in his direction, seemingly looking through him. Sapnap shivered.

The room the brunette had entered was a stark contrast from the rest of the apartment. Where there was chaos and destruction outside, the small haven that was ~~Clay and George’s~~ George’s room was immaculate and unchanged, from the two bottles of cologne sitting on the counter, down to the unmade queens bed. The bed in question that currently held a 5’9 man, incased in a neon green hoodie.  
  
Sapnap approached George cautiously, like he was dealing with a wild animal, and perched himself on the edge of the bed. 

Sapnap cleared his throat before speaking. 

“George you need to go outside, get some fresh air! This isn’t healthy and you know it.” George’s only reaction was a slow blink, that dislodged a singular tear, that paved a clear path down George’s pale cheek and made a small plip sound as it fell onto the mattress. 

“Go ‘way” George breathed into the air. He took a deep heaving breath. “Just, just go away Nick I want, no I deserve to be alone.” 

Plip. Plip. Plip. With each tear that hit the mattress Sapnap felt his heart break. The younger boy stretched an arm out towards George, a peace offering of sorts. But all George could see was Clays teary face as he plummeted through the clouds. 

George threw himself into Sapnaps arms, his lithe frame wracked with sobs as he clawed at younger mans back, so overcome with grief he couldn’t breath, or receive air fast enough. Sapnap enveloped George in a hug, rubbing circular patterns into his back whilst attempting to comfort the shorter boy with his words. “Hey, hey. George it’s gonna be okay. Clay he’s- he’s in a better place now, alright? We both know he wouldn’t want you upset like this..” Sapnap paused, wondering how to bring up the next topic of conversation. “You know Techno said your welcome back to work at anytime? It could be a good distraction for now, huh George?”

George stilled against Sapnap, hardly breathing. His erratic chest spasms slowing as he calmed himself down. Before he finally spoke, voice small and weak. 

“Ok”

George’s ears pricked at the sound of Sapnap leaving the apartment and he hauled himself off the bed.

The stupid bed his Fiancé, Clay insisted they buy because the double wasn’t big enough for his lanky, tall frame. A frame that George would never get to hold again. George’s eyes filled up with tears, and he noted with a cold detachment, that the smell of Clays strawberry shampoo was already fading from the pillows. George bit the inside of his cheek so hard it bled. He swiftly left the room.

George walked robotically down the corridor, ignoring the scattered books and glass that adorned the floor. ~~Clay would be upset at the treatment of the books~~. Something hit George’s foot as he turned into the dining room. He looked down. Then he saw it.

An innocent picture frame, the broken glass webbing across the picture. The image was of two young men gazing into each other’s eyes, a brunette and a blonde. The brunette in the photo had a diamond engagement ring on one hand, and the blondes hand in the other. The sunset in the background made for beautiful lighting, and you could just see a dusting of red across the blondes high cheekbones. They looked disgustingly in love. Time seemed to grind to a stop, with George staring at the photo, his hands shaking. The universe constantly reminding him of what could have been, what would have been. George turned his head and emptied the contents of his stomach on the floor. The bitter taste of bile clogging George’s senses. 

Sapnap was right George should get out and taste some fresh air. So George stood up, like he was in a trance and slowly made his way to the front door, dutifully ignoring the banged up Nikes that sat there, never to be worn again, and slipped on a pair of Vans and grabbing his keys before escaping the confining apartment.

George headed towards his destination, every small thing reminding him of what he lost. From the sound of laughter filling the New York streets, to the bustling traffic. He could trace it all back to a memory of Clay.

George stopped abruptly when he saw the café he’d stopped in front of, the New York foot traffic adapting around him while people went on about their day, oblivious to George’s pain.

The café George had his first date with Dream in. He could remember it like it was yesterday, Clays face lit up with joy as he told George some stupid joke about an octopus and that dumb laugh that made him sound like he’d been smoking since he was five. Just looking at the restaurant George could feel himself slipping into the memory, like he was weightless.

_The day was blisteringly hot, the sky rise buildings of New York doing nothing to help the ventilation, but George couldn’t bring himself to care, how could he when his date was, for a lack of better word, perfect for him. Down to his blonde hair that shone like spun gold in the sun, to his button nose covered in freckles that spread across both cheeks, adding to his sun kissed complexion. His emerald eyes that looked golden to George, crinkled with joy, their focus on him and only him. He was like a gift from the heavens, just for George. And if George was a religious man, he’d worship the angel in front of him. His date, Clay, then ruined the moment with a truly horrific joke._

_Clay huffed in indignation. “Oh come on George the joke wasn’t that bad.”_

_George levelled Clay with an unimpressed stare. “Yes. Yes it was that bad.”_

_This caused Clay to slap the table while doing his best impression of a kettle, (also known as Clays laugh). The drinks wobbled precariously and George held onto his coke, just to be safe._

_“Yea but you don’t regret Sapnap introducing us do you?” The brunette smiled warmly. “You’ll never know, I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow.”_

_Clay let out a small cackle. “I can tell I’m growing on you though!”_

_George just rolled his eyes and retorted. “Yea like mold.”  
_

_“Wow George, wow, how you wound me.” Clay then dramatically grabbed his sweater where his heart was located and swooned. “I fear I may never recover from that harsh rebuttal!”_

_“We are in public!” George hissed at him, while trying to contain a laugh._

_“Ah, I know you love it George.” And George did love it._

“Stop daydreaming and get a move on jerk.” A burly man grunted towards George, and George remembered that he was in fact, in the middle of a busy street, not on a date with his dead fiancé. 

George wiped the tears collecting in his eyes, mumbled out an apology and continued on his way, leaving the café and his memory behind.

The brunette didn’t even need to look to know where he was going, his feet had carried him there many times, but it was the only time he’d ever braved the journey alone. George’s small frame shivered, dressed only in tracksuit bottoms and a neon hoodie, in the height of a New York winter. The trees looked as bare and dead as George felt inside, as without warm temperatures and the sun, the trees would shrivel and die. And George’s sun was gone, taking all his warmth with him, and leaving George alone, to shrivel and die.

He had arrived. The brown eyed man looked at the beautiful scenery. There where flowery vines climbing up wooden fences, making the place look alive and calm. A pair of doves cooed at each other, their pure white feathers seeming to glow in the sun, a beacon of hope and love. A quaint stream ran through an opening in some rocks, it’s water clear and pure, cascading into a pond below. George _hated_ it.

He hated it with his entire being. Nothing should look this pretty when the light of his life was gone. Nothing should be peaceful and beautiful. He wanted to burn it to the ground.

He shoved his feelings down as he walked to a stone, nestled into the ground. George’s legs felt like jelly every step he took. Every step that took him closer to the cold reality that his sun was gone. Extinguished far too soon. George sat by the gravestone of his fiancé and he weeped. He cried until he was sure he would burst. The brunette cried until he had no tears left to give, spent and dried up he collapsed, craving the company of the one person who could make it all go away. A person who was no longer here.

George pulled his legs up to his chest and felt a rage and blood lust so strong it would scare even the most violent people this world had come to know. George wanted to let his anger out on something and he knew the perfect outlet. George took out his communicator and clicked onto the main channel.

“I’m ready to come back to work.”

The SMP tower loomed above George. It’s concrete walls where pristine, and the one way glass shone in the sun. The intimidating building made George shiver, the last time he’d entered the building had been before ‘ _the accident_ ’ and since then everything had changed for him. George scanned his keycard and entered. His shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor as he greeted his colleagues with a warm smile he really didn’t feel like giving, but George was nothing if not polite. 

“Hey George! I’m glad to see you back, and remember if you ever need to talk I’ll always be there for you!”

“Thanks Wilbur, it’s appreciated.”

George continued on his way, eyes glued to the floor, he didn’t know if he could handle one more pitying glance.

Footsteps fell in sync with George’s, his field partner Technoblade, or better known as the blade. His ruby red eyes scanned George’s face, taking into account his red rimmed eyes, and purple bruises that sat cushioned under his eyes, not to mention how gaunt his face had become. Techno hummed and made sure to remember to book George in for a psyche evaluation.

“Welcome back agent 404, we’ve certainly missed your espionage skills, and also your ability to reign Sapnap in, your absence has cost us at least one thousand dollars in fire damage.” George cringed. “But it’s good to see you back, you’ve missed quite a lot in your absence.” To someone who didn’t know Techno it would sound monotone and insincere, but George knew he meant it.

“Ah is that your way of telling me the government is about to fall.” George chuckled.

Techno sighed. “I hope not but, there has been a change in the pecking order, Philza retired as director.”

George turned to look at Techno “Wait really?”

The pink haired man nodded, and his face turned solemn. “That leads me onto my next piece of, frankly depressing news, George I’m afraid we are no longer field partners.”

The brunette stopped in his tracks. “Techno what do you... Why?”

“Well agent 404, your currently speaking to the new director, yours truly. This does however mean I’m off field work. But not to worry we’ve found you a new partner, I do believe you’ll get along. In fact I’m taking you to meet him right now.”

George stayed silent, filing away this new knowledge in his brain. Before ~~Techno~~ The Director held out his arm, signifying they stop. 

Techno gestured to a new man, one dressed in black combat boots and pants, he had a gun strapped securely in a thigh holster on his right leg. George continued cataloguing his weaponry. A katana strapped to his back, the handle sticking over his right shoulder, perhaps meaning his dominant hand is his right one, at least combat wise. To the untrained eye that seemed like all his weaponry, but George could tell he had another firearm concealed under his hoodie. Most likely a pistol. George realised, with a pang that the hoodie was the same neon green his fiancé used to wear. George let his eyes travel up, and he noticed the man wore a mask to conceal his identity, with a crudely drawn smiley face on the front. 

The director cleared his throat and said.

“Agent 404 meet your new partner, Agent Dream.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lmao bet u didn’t expect that. Kudos and comments most definitely feed me so please leave them! Also if you have any ideas feel free to comment them, I’d love to incorporate your ideas into this! :)


End file.
